Tribute2 a Timbuk2

Two years ago I, the innocent bright-eyed freshman that I was, followed behind a fellow student, gazing at his over-sized bag that lay diagonal across his back, thinking to myself, "huh. Cool bag. Looks like it would offer great back support. Good distribution of weight you know?*"

                                                   *yes, sometimes  I think in second person when I think to myself, okay?

I would later find out  that this student was what people referred to as a "hipster", and that these cool bags with nice weight distribution was one of the primary emblems of these aforementioned "hipsters", and thus to sport one of these cool bags with nice weight distribution was to become a pejorative "hipster". 

   

-Incidentally they were also  expensive; and thus I continued walking with my regular persons messenger bag dragging on the ground, and eventually my 5th grader approved polka-dot backpack which surely exacerbating my scoliosis because it certainly did not distribute weight properly 

Then came study abroad. Surely my polka-dot backpack could not defend itself against a malicious theif!  A Timbuk2 however is basically built with an anti-theft alarm! (I mean, we all know how loud Velcro is!) And everything is inside a nice waterproof interior! Perfect! 

      

And did I mention the proper weight distribution?! Perfect!

Thus, I bought my first Timbuk2. 

Over the summer I realized it actually does function as a great bike bag and not just a merit badge of hipness. 

Once summer ended, it was time to go international.

And that was when I fell in love with my Timbuk2

YOU STILL WITH ME?

Yes. I legitmatelly love my bag. I take it everywhere with me; I carry everything in it; and I have been repeatedly teased for both of these things.                                                                                                                                                      (going to a club? Yeah, hold on a sec, gotta grab my bag...)

But over these past couple of weeks by myself I have very much realized why I love my Timbuk2 so much, and  it does not have much to do with hipness or even weight distribution.

While I have very much enjoyed my time in Budapest, I have of course had moments of homesickness; but in someways, I have really enjoyed that homesickness because in it I have realized how much I appreciate Seattle, how much its culture has shaped me, and how proud I am to call the Pacific North West my home.     

( this is especially important since I cannot say that I have ever experienced this same sort of affection for my actual hometown)

Yet while the homesickness has been illuminating, it of course has also been painful and melancholic. As a result I continually witness myself  desperately clutching to the things and experiences that offer a connection with Seattle, and one of these very things is my Timbuk2.

Basically, my Timbuk2 is not just my schoolbag- it is my only material possession that I completely associate and identify with Seattle. Embodied in my bag is summer time bike rides, the Puget sound, cafes, Seattle University, Pike's Place, Hot Mama's Pizza, my friends, and yes, even dirty hipsters.

Like a turtle who carries its home on its back, so do I.

                                                  (well metaphorically...Though..I could probably fit in my bag?)

Yet, this connection goes even further. Because not only is my bag an emblem of Seattle, but it is also an emblem that I sport eagerly and proudly; thus, in away, it becomes an emblem of myself-- a badge of uniqueness that says, "hey, this is where I come from".

   

   What that excatly means of course depends on who I'm declaring it to:

          -to  local Hungarians or Europeans it means I come from the United States [not in an arrogant way mind you, but simply in a " information to better understand who I am" sort of way]

         - to the other people in my program, it means I come from the Pacific North West, which I have come to realize definitely has its own culture and I am so proud to be a part of

Maybe this doesn't really make since, but as I write this a particular story my history professor/ life coach told me when explaining the emotional trajectory of study abroad comes to mind (she herself  having spent a year abroad during her undergrad) :

The beginning is the honeymoon stage when you are too excited for anything to be wrong.

About a month or two in, homesickness starts to hit- and suddenly all you can think about his how much better "we" do things back home.

After the third or fourth month, however, things become incredibly easier and it is smooth sailing from there.

 Ir seems as though in the third phase, one  finds a compromise between wanting to completely assimilate with the culture and wanting to maintain one's "americanness" or whatever culture they call home. 

My professor told me a that after awhile she just embraced her americanness. 

                    

Of course she still embraced the new culture as well, speaking the language and all, but being "the American one" was part of her identity; simply put, it was what made her unique. 

And the part that I remember best of this story- and why it has arised amidst these Timbuk2 musings- is that she too had her emblem of home that she proudly wore: acid-washed jeans.

Her acid-washed jeans announced to the world "this is where I come from", and as a result provided an internal ability to assimilate to a new culture without assimilating her identity away.

And so I continue to walk the streets of Budapest with my Timbuk2 tightly secure over my bulging winter coat, for my bag is not just an emblem of Seattle, but it is an emblem of me.

PS: CHECK OUT THIS SWEET VIDEO I MADE IN MY SOLITUDE

Tumeric cookies with a side of liquid Christmas trees

Vince Guaraldi: Check

Christmas movies: Check

The sickeningly-sweet aftertaste of Christmas cookie that continues to linger in my palate: Check

-time check- 1:34 AM

I hereby declare Christmas : COMPLETE

And you know what? For a Christmas spent away from home it was pretty successful.

- I mean, spending both  Christmas Eve and day with my last good friends here, cooking homemade dinners and pizza, baking cookies, coloring snowflakes, and watching a Charlie Brown Christmas while sipping on mulled wine that we added just a tad too much gin to? I don't know about you but it sounds like a splendid time to me. -

                                                               (Incidentally it was a splendid time)

It seems to me that once people hit their twenties, the greatest Christmas gift is the chance to just be a kid again-- whether from the childhood nostalgia that occurs, the jovial spirit which inevitably pervades your soul, or even just the ability to spend a whole day in pajamas, watching movies and playing games free from criticism or disapproval --  this is more satisfying  than any gift bought in a store.

SO ANYWAYS

While  this weekend  has been great I can already feel the raindrops of reality melting my winter wonder land-- this reality being the fact that the majority of my friends are gone, and the last few left will be gone by this time next week (oh and beeteedubs, they aren't coming  back)

In plain and understated terms, this SUCKS....MAJOR.

               But eh, life goes on. 

      AND,  while I am saying goodbye to my new friends, in a few weeks I will be saying hey to some old friends, which I am very excited for.

Unfortunately, however, I have two weeks of solitude to push through (...I mean...enjoy?) first.

But how will I survive? I mean, don't get me wrong, I do not require human contact all day every day....But two weeks? No friends? What ever shall I do?

THIS

MARISKA'S WINTER BREAK  TO-DO LIST: BUDAPEST EDITION  2011

1. Watch SO MUCH T.V.- movies, shows, cartoons....ALL OF IT.

2. Learn to cut my own hair

3. Curl my hair with bobby pins

4. Hang out in the children's section at Calvin Ter library and attempt to read books...attempt being the key word.

5. Learn a new craft- Card making? Embroidery? Whittling?

6. Perfect old crafts- AKA make more friendship bracelets.....for my self....sigh...

7. Learn the Cyrillic alphabet

8. Make a stop motion movie using only the objects in my room/ Vlog? Maybe?

9. Thoroughly learn about the Palestinian war

10. Buy  jeggings BOOTS (but really this time)

11. Construct blanket fort

12. Visit one new district of Budapest every day

13. BAKE

14. Learn one new thing off of wikihow everyday(staring with:  How to Avoid Copyright Infringement)

15. Reintroduce Sparticus work-out to my life (and my thighs)

16. CONSTRUCT LIFE PLAN (ideally illustrated with a nice flow chart)

Alright that seems about it..

OH ALSO

I really do ( for reals this time ( I  mean really  (reelee) ) )   plan to start blogging every weekend

So ...heads up? Sorry if it gets annoying? Your welcome?

okay, good night

BOLDOG KARÁCSONYT

        

Hungarian Turkeys and Serbian Hipsters

Have you heard the good news?

That's right! My keyboard has stopped it's boycott against Ts, Ys, Ns, and spaces!

(and thank god! The strike was really putting pressure on the system called my daily life and paper writing capabilities)

ANYWAYS

The semester is coming to a close, and you know what, the second half of this semester has been pretty different but overall great

                                                      (minus the existential crisis a few weeks ago, yikes)

I spent most of my time in Budapest, and while that sometimes felt slow or uneventful, it seems like the ability to be bored is a sign that Budapest is really starting to feel like home.

Though there's been some pretty neat experiences that ended up being far more significant than I anticipated.

check it:

Thanksgiving. This was my first Thanksgiving not spent with either my family in Montana or my sister in Portland. 

Now, Thanksgiving isn't exactly a holiday of much importance to me,  (especially after I went to high school and learned about a  little thing called imperialism and small pox infested blankets....womp womp)

But I've come to realize that the holiday season itself is significant for me if for no other reason than nostalgia. When I wake up on Thanksgiving  or Christmas morning to the smell of baking food in a slightly frenzied atmosphere that is eagerly anticipating the feast ahead, it recreates the strongest memories I have of my childhood, and particularly, of my mom. The ability to feel this way makes me want to cherish and protect these final weeks of every year against the other 46 weeks of reality and my ever deepening adulthood.

Surprisingly, this Thanksgiving was one of the most nostalgic holidays I have had despite being away from family and in a country that barely even eats turkey. I found myself in charge of organizing the dinner (though in reality this meant nothing more than creating a facebook event and badgering people until they told me what they were bringing to eat)

But as plans started to develop for thanksgiving a wierd sensation was coming over me. Suddenly I was searching everywhere for exciting sides, emailing my sister and grandma for recipes, I felt an unnecessary nervousness that there would not be a proper balance of sides vs desserts.....and the quantity..Oh GOD WHAT IF THERE IS NOT ENOUGH FOOD.

 - essentially, I was reminded of why I am very much a member of my family-

Now, this realization meant far much more to me than anyone could really know since for most of my life there has been a part of me that sometimes felt disconnected with my family. There has often been holidays that I spent quietly, simply listening or only holding conversation with my relatives under the age of 7. Of course this hasn't always been the case, but this Thanksgiving I felt a real identification with my grandma, my aunts, my sister and above all, my mom who so often hosted holiday dinners and who so enjoyed baking and cooking, all December long it seemed, that she really made the Christmas season what it was; to feel connected with this is a great and comforting feeling.

( Reconciliation with this whole 'growing up' thing through filling in the holiday role that I associate with the adult women in my life: CHECK)

Serbia. While not as sappy of a realization as Thanksgiving provided -my nostalgic childhood memories about the former Yugoslavia seem to be lacking- a funny phenomenon did occur during this fairly spontaneous weekend excursion.

First off, Serbia is pretty neat. Not necessarily my favorite place so far, but eh, at least my fears and exaggerated conceptions of Serbia were mostly extinghushed 

( minus the part where my friend and I entered our hostel to the sight of five police officers with guns watching some futball....wait what?)

But the most memorable part of our first night was when we found ourselves, not in a disco, nor a turbo-folk club, but rather.....at a bar-turned-indie party swarming with Serbian hipsters? Awww yeaaa we did.

And you know what? It was one of the strangest sensations because as I rocked my shoulders and tapped my toes to familiar English indie, I suddenly felt intense association with Seattle, and  being amongst the Serbian indie scene was such an unbelievable comfort that I couldn't help but feel so happy inside for those several hours we spent there.

(side note: the emphasis of this being that I associate Seattle and SU with the indie scene and hipsters not that I solely get comfort from the presence of hipsters...LAWL)

I honestly can't really say that any uber profound realization about life came from this night, but to feel at home in the middle of the Balkans is quite an amazing, and hilarious, phenomenon. And I suppose in a way it was reassuring  that a feeling of home really can transcend the physical place from where it derived.

Enough reflection for one night?

I think so.

Just give me a rock and call me Sisyphus

Existential Crisis. Stagnation. 
Down-Spiral Down-Spiral Down-Spiral down-spiral.

-Now that the honeymoon period of study abroad has subsided and I am settling into Budapest as my current home, trying desperately to make it feel as much as home instead of just a vacation, I find my self floundering, flailing in the empty space of my own free time.
(HENCE, the largely emphasized words up top.)

I literally did nothing all day today. I have so much time to do anything. But I do nothing. So instead of cataloging all the meaningless activities of my weekend, I am going to lie ( with illustrations):

  I woke up at 6 am. I didn't set my alarm, for today, nature was my alarm. The bright rays of an autumn sunrise waking me from my slumber, I got up, got dressed, and did my daily run....up a mountain....in Budapest?..YES IN BUDAPEST.

I reached the summit in about a half hour and proceeded to meditate atop the mountain when I sensed a disturbance approaching. Two rather scruffy looking Hugarian men were approaching behind me. What is anyone but me doing atop this mountain at 6:45 am? I knew trouble was a foot. Immediately they started taunting me in Hungarian
(which I of course understood because I am bilingual you know). I tried to leave but instead a scuffle broke out.  Afraid that one had a weapon and seeing no safeway out I decided to make a run for it....off the edge of the mountain. . .

And where did I go? Well there is only one place I could have gone ....onto the back of an Albatross of course! (They're pretty common in Hungary, the national bird actually)

The crisp Hungarian air blowing through my hair, the albatross and I flew far above Budapest, far above Hungary, far above the WORLD. Nothing could bring us down.

Having suddenly (and most literally) dropped in on this large bird I thought it only polite to make friends, and so I started some conversation.

   Incidentally Albatrosses LOVE good conversation.

We talked about so many things: Politics, music, religion, movies, even Love ( he was a very talkative albatross you see). Hours passed and we continued flying when eventually I asked:

- So when are we going to land? Don't get me wrong, I have very much enjoyed our time, but we must have to hit solid ground at somepoint?

To which he responed:
-Why?

-Well, because we blong on the solid ground.
Don't we?

-I don't.

-What do you mean?

Explaining in a very matter-of-fact manner:
-You see my dear, I am an albatross. I  can spend my whole life without setting foot on solid ground; I just fly from sea to sea, floating to where ever the current takes me, and when I tire of simply floating, I spread my wings and choose my own course for a while, and I fly. Do you understand?

- Yes. I think I know what you mean.


While I am certainly no bird, I truly did understand what my feathered friend said, for it had been a long time since I had felt on solid ground as well, so it was nice to know that I wasn't the only one floating on currents for a living. -Now if only I could fly, I thought. Oh well, there has to be something to distinguish me from a bird I suppose.

And so we continued to fly. We flew over the Puszta, the Carpathian Mountains, over all of Central Europe. But as the sun began to set, we began our way back to Budapest, for I was not an Albatross and it was time for me to go home.

As the albatross began to descend into Budapest, we rapped up our conversation about the changing political climate of Hungary ( He is very  interested to see what the new majority will do this upcoming year) and we finally said our goodbyes. I hopped from his back onto the paved, leaf covered ground of Gellert Hill, and he flew away.

and so I sat on the solid ground and watched the sunset, wondering of whether to float or fly.

Confessions of a Political Science Major

Oh hey there.

Do you know what's been on my mind a lot lately? Woah! That's  totally right! I've been thinking a lot about
                                             

                                               WESTERNIZATION

  I have thought a lot about this topic throughout the past year but it has become so relevant considering my current environment. In the United States westernization easily remains a topic reserved for the academic world, the political elite, or high school debate tournaments. Here though, it isn't just some political science paradigm, it is an actual decision that has to be made: It is not an issue of moral obligation but a question of survival in global society!

Post-communist Central Europe had to make the decision to become more Western and ostensibly this decision occured fairly organically.  However, there are many other examples where this democratization is not so organic, does not arise from "the people", and either democratization is "exported" and forced or nations are simply deemed as "under devolped" or even just plain "inferior".

and you know what? That is DUMB

                                                               Don't get me wrong- I don't mean to create a complete tirade against democracy, the Man, or what have you. Democracies  can be great and I'm a pretty big fan...

 HOWEVER, why is it that westernization has to be the ultimate standard of progress?

This question brought itself to me during my comparative politics class last year when on the second day we learned about the "modernization paradigm" which created a linear criterion of progress from which all states can be categorized and, ultimately, the end goal is to be a beaming protégé of Western Civilization; the further away from this standard, then the less "modern", less "progressive" a state is.

          Maybe it is hypocritical of me to complain or question when I live in the epicenter of Western Society, it's just.......see this is what is really plaguing my  mind:

       I spent last weekend in Sarajevo, Bosnia ( after spending a day in Zagreb, Croatia). The countries that make up the former Yugoslavia remain extremely different from Western, and even Central Europe.                 Check it: The first night in Sarajevo we made our way to a look out over the city at sunset. As we climbed up the darkening cobblestone ally, lead by Bosnian teenagers, church bells started to toll alongside the melodic Muslim call to prayer heard from a nearby minaret. Surreal much?

 Having been heavily influenced by Turkish rule and isolation from the West, the Balkans maintain a noticeably different culture. While Bosnia contains clear scars from the war that ended just a little of 15 years ago, there is still something so refreshing about the country-- that in spite of the hardships and domination it has suffered, there is still an essence that endures and keeps it uniquely itself, uniquely Bosnian.
            

(This is maybe a horrible way of describing it, I mean, I am not really sure if I can even characterize what being "Bosnian" means. The impression I got is that, this is something even Bosnians' are struggling with. But it's hard to put things into precise words sometimes, OKAY?)

   What I'm getting at, is that even if the culture of Bosnia is an amalgamation of various cultures and influences, it is uniquely theirs, and as far as I could tell, they are embracing it.

  Then there is Zagreb, Croatia, who is trying so much to become Western. SO MUCH.
--So much so that they outwardly reject their "Balkan" culture ( Balkan being very much considered a pejorative) and even display European Union flags, just itching to get accepted.

Now, I don't mean to imply that joining the EU is dumb, and economic security is for "weak ass bitches".

It's just--- on our way to Mostar, Bosnia we passed beautiful mountains and small houses that rested along a gorgeous river that was so sea-green you would think it was the sea itself. At one point my friend turned to me and made a comment about how, give it 20 years, and this will be prime real estate, a great tourist spot.

But why? Why can't this country and land just be pretty in itself? Why must the end goal, even the expectation, be for it to be developed, reduced to nothing but a source for generating revenue? The land has already been under so much domination and control, why must it then fall under domination of capitalist exploits?

Of course I would want Bosnia to become stable and successful, and I know that depends a lot upon wealth. Of course it is not even my place to really say what is right or wrong for a whole state anyways.

However, what is frustrating is that whether or not Bosnia wants to become western, to market their sea-green river to become a neighborhood of the wealthy, to become the next tourist hot spot, to contract the land for economic gain, there is immense pressure to do so, and there is universal expectation to do so. To not develop, to not abandon their Balkan heritage, to not change, is to be uncivilized, uncouth, and unimportant.

The language is different, the religion is different, the music is different: life is different. But different does not mean wrong. Different does not mean backwards. Different does not mean inferior.


    -In Bosnia, even after a horrific war, there are  Mosques, Catholic cathedrals, and even Jewish synagogues existing among each other in ostensible peace,
    - In the United States, the simple proposal for an Islamic community center results in protests, bigotry, and violence against mosques throughout the united states.
             
                    What a flawless  and superior global standard of progress.

Where did you come from? Where did you go?

Study abroad is a lot like being stuck in a sort of middle school purgatory where there are a lot of field trips and comfort food, but ultimately one finds themselves trapped in stagnation: I can't work, I am not required to write 40 pages in school papers, and focusing on anything important proves extremely difficult. 

Today I woke up at 11, attempted to roll r's for two hours, watched tv, ate pretzels and took a nap until supper because, well shoot, rolling r's really tuckers me out!-- point is : While this was AWESOME, I really don't know how I can maintain such a lethargic lifestyle for the next seven months.

Basically I have this fear that when I eventually return home I will have a mental break down upon realizing that , oh yeah, real life exists and no I can't really get paid for being as Hungarian as possible (which really seems to be my only life purpose at the moment).

GOAL: Some how make this year feel like a step forward, not just a break /establish a legitimate feeling of stability here. (sounds pretty good eh?)

ANYWAYS

While I might be drowning in a toxic sludge of idleness (too soon? ) Some pretty neat things have been going on:

PER EXAMPLE- Last weekend I spent four days in Transylvania*           

                                                                                                                                     *(NO I didn't go to Dracula's castle and NO I don't want to hear  various vampire jokes and comments)

 Preface: We went to Transylvania  because it used to be a part of Hungary until it was awarded to Romania after WWI                                                                     ( Treaty of Trianon = good idea  DUMB)

This was undoubtedly one of my favorite trips so far. We were in the mountains, perused through the annual market and stayed with families in the small town of kalotaszentkirály where we attended (and danced at) the harvest ball.

         The beginning of the dance was folk music (played by a live band of course) and eventually switched to  "contemporary" music. A small group of us attempted to dance to the sick beat of the fiddle and synthesized keyboard, but one could not help but feel a bit of yearning for the dance parties of home or at least some sense of familiarity.    

              And then an upbeat, arm swinging diddy began to play into the crowd: Cotton Eye Joe

(Contemporary- adj. Hungarian hits circa 1980?)

Suddenly we are all singing the most random yet nostalgic song and a people bridge was formed. ( you know, the going under people's arms then forming the bridge when you're out, and then...you know..well...youtube it or something. geeze).

At anyrate it was hands-down the most memorable and awesome part of the evening.

Point being: music and dancing (and cotton eye Joe) = Best intercultural experience EVER.


 So yes, Transylvania was amazing. The food was delicious, the people wonderful, and the country side beautiful. I find myself more and more being attracted away from the city.


 Alright, that's it for now.

I will try to write more often,

sorry it takes so long,

blah blah blah ( Ke$ha? What? )

GOOD NIGHT.

Krokodil Klub

                    Blogging is HARD.               And yet, blog I must.

It has almost been three weeks since leaving the shores of the Puget Sound for the fields and Pastries of Hungary, and so much has already happened. Since studying abroad is apparently all about self discovery and profound thinking here are my main revelations from the past weeks:

                                
                                      SCHOOL:

            I am taking two political science classes, literature, history, and Hungarian.

Epiphany 1: Two years of honors has consumed my brain. Now this isn’t to mean just the program curriculum but really just the conversations and people that were in honors. For one, I keep seeing the misogyny in everything, I get a weird rush when pointing out the paternalism of democracy, and the weirdest sort of pride when my professor told us to look up feudalism and I wanted to respond  "oh, well, let me tell you about Feudalism.."                                              (which I didn’t do because, well, I’m not an asshole)

 Epiphany 2: The Cold War was a BIG FUCKING DEAL. It is easy to simply talk about communism and soviet Russia in a very removed sort of way when living in the U.S. But then you ride a metro in Budapest  and you have this crazy realization that everyone around you who is older than 20-something actually experienced communism and a complete regime change in their lifetime. Imagine a complete upheaval of the way your life is run and perceived. . . oh yeah and imagine that this happened ONLY TWENTY YEARS  AGO.

Epiphany 3: The Treaty of Trianon (post WWI) IS STILL A BIG FUCKING DEAL. I mean, really, just take a stroll into Slovakia speaking Hungarian and you will see what I mean.

                          
                           HUNGARIAN LANGUAGE:

Epiphany: I miss prepositions and word order. You never know what you have until it is gone.

ESZTERGOM, HUNGARY – historically religious HQ, borders Slovakia

Epiphany 1: Visiting the town that I wrote and presented a paper about canon law on is extremely awesome, especially when hanging out at the basilica.

Epiphany 2:  Rape law and domestic violence of medieval Hungary is still kind of a conversation killer.

EGER, HUNGARY – Northern Hungary, Wine country

Epiphany: Why drink water when you can just have more wine?

  -side epiphany: Ottoman Empire = Beezy

PÉCS, HUNGARY- South, Cultural capital of Europe 2010 (apparently)

Epiphany: 200 days of sunshine, adorable stray puppies, gelato every twenty feet, dancing and music around every corner –  cultural capital of Europe? Try cultural capital of the UNIVERSE.

- side epiphany : The crip walk was actually derived from Hungarian folk dancing.

Alright, that’s enough profundity for one evening

Jó estét